


Grow Old Along With Me

by mslilylashes



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Character Death, M/M, Sherlock Holmes's Retirement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 12:54:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20621366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mslilylashes/pseuds/mslilylashes
Summary: A series of snapshots of Sherlock and John’s life together, as seen by an unlikely outside source.Please heed the warnings for major character death.





	Grow Old Along With Me

**Author's Note:**

> So this was an idea bouncing around my head for awhile, and after having so many dark fics lately, I just needed something light and fluffy for a change. 
> 
> Of course, I am also, well, ME, so naturally my fluff comes with a giant side of heartache. I’m just that way. 
> 
> Xx lilylashes

Forties

_Hello?_

Hello, this is Amelia Whitmeyer calling from Barclays, may I please speak to Mr Holmes?

_Ah, yes, just a mo’ please. (Sherlock! The bank is on the phone.)_

**I’m busy, John, tell them to piss off.**

_(I’m not telling the bank to piss off when you’re sat on your arse doing nothing! *silence* William Sherlock Scott Holmes, take this call or so help me, I will toss that bag of eyeballs straight into the bin!) *crash, thud, bang* (Jesus Christ, you are a child. Take the bloody phone.) He’ll be right there, thanks for your patience._

Er... It’s no problem, Mr...?

**Doctor, it’s Doctor Watson, and he is currently chasing after loose eyeballs that missed the bin because his aim is atrocious. This is Sherlock Holmes. What the blazes was so urgent that you cost me a bag of perfectly good eyeballs?**

Eyeba-? Er... Nevermind. Mr Holmes, this is Amelia Whitmeyer from Barclays, I just wanted to speak with you regarding some suspicious activity on your checking account? I see here that your card has several declined transactions at both Tescos and the cash machine just outside. We just wanted to follow up with you to make sure your card is secure, and that you haven’t experienced any fraud or unauthorised transactions on your account.

**(John! The damn bank is calling because you are still absurdly incapable of managing a chip and PIN machine, and now these inept idiots think I’ve been hacked. What a waste of time and eyeballs. Here, you deal with this nonsense, I’m going to the morgue for toes.) *clatter, footsteps, door slams***

_(Bloody git) Hello, Ms Whitmeyer? Thank you for your concern, but the transactions were made with his knowledge and consent. I apologise for Sherlock’s... Well, for Sherlock. He- well, we appreciate your vigilance._

Er... It’s my pleasure, Dr Watson. Um... He didn’t mean actual toes, did he? Actually, nevermind again. Anyway. Thank you for your time, and for choosing Barclay for your banking needs.

*click*

~*~

**John, I told you didn’t want to go to the bloody bank. This is a waste of time, and can’t you see these morons have absolutely no idea how to handle their own finances, much less a complete strangers? See that man down at the end of the teller line? He is approaching a six figure gambling debt, and you want me to hand over my identification and banking information to him?**

_Christ, Sherlock, can you shut the hell up for five minutes and wait to be called. Just relax; if you settle down and lower your voice, I’ll ask the nice bank lady to give you a lolly before we leave._

***mutters* Not a child, John. *chair scrapes against marble floor* It best be a cherry lolly.**

_Sherlock, on all that is holy, I’ll give you an entire sack of cherry lollies if you’ll just sit down and keep your mouth closed._

Hello, Mr Holmes? I’m Amelia Whitmeyer; we’ve spoken on the phone before, but it’s lovely to finally put a face to the name. How can I help you today? *silence* Err... Mr Holmes? Is everything all right? *silence* Umm... Dr Watson, I presume? Is Mr Holmes...?

_For god’s sake, Sherlock, I didn’t mean literally keep your mouth closed. Come on, this woman is here to help us, can you please stop acting like a stropping toddler?_

**Oh, am I allowed to speak now, John? Oh happy day!**

_Sherlock, knock it off. You’re wasting Ms Whitmeyer’s time._

***snorts, rolls eyes* Fine. Ms Whitmeyer, I would like to add John to my account, so you can bother him with your inane questions the next time he is too idiotic to figure out how to use the cash point.**

Uh, I can certainly assist you with that Mr Holmes. I’ll just need your and Dr Watson’s photo identification to get that started for you.

**John, hand me my wallet.**

_Where is it?_

**Right trouser pocket.**

_Sherlock, I’m not reaching in your trousers right now. Get it yourself._

**You’re the one who insisted on this imbecilic meeting, not me. **

_*sigh* Fine. Here you go, Ms Whitmeyer._

Thank you, Dr Watson. I’ll just need to confirm some information with you, and grab a new signature card for you both to sign. Please excuse me for a moment while I go make a photo copy of your IDs.

***pointed cough***

_*sigh* Ms Whitmeyer?_

Yes, Dr Watson?

_If it’s not too much trouble, would you mind terribly bringing back a few lollies?_

***cough***

_... Cherry lollies?_

Oh! Of course. Do you have children at home who would like a treat?

_*snorts* Yes, something like that._

~*~

Ah, Dr Watson, good to see you again. How can I help you today?

_Hi Ms Whitmeyer, I have sort of an... Erm... Unusual situation._

Oh dear. Not eyeballs again, I hope?

_Well... So... Here’s the thing. If a cheque is, say, damaged, is the teller still able to cash it?_

What do you mean, ‘damaged’?

_Well, say it got wet?_

Oh, did you get caught in the storm this week? Terrible weather we’ve been having. Well, I would have to take a peek at it, but as long as all the points of negotiability are there, I don’t see why n- *jumps* Oh! Dr Watson! Is that- Is that blood?!

_So... Here’s the thing. You remember Sherlock? Well, he’s a detective and solves crimes, and sometimes his clients are a little... Well... Anyway. Yes. But I can assure you, the blood is clean — it came from the blood bank, not an injured human. Sherlock just had a bag of blood in the same pocket at the cheque, and, well... It exploded a bit when he was knocked over by an escaping criminal._

Dr Watson. Just get a new cheque.

_*blushes* Yes ma’am._

~*~

***general ruckus and chaos***

Mr Holmes! What is the meaning of all this?

**I came in here to check my bank balance, and these blasted idiots you employ keep insisting that there is ten thousand pounds more than there should be in my checking account, but have no earthly idea how the hell it got there!**

Okay, Mr Holmes, please calm down. Let me see what I can see on my end on my computer. *typing* Alright. It seems that a wire transfer was made from a ‘M Holmes’ this morning, with a memo attached that says ‘for your impending nuptials’. Oh, Mr Holmes! Are you and Dr Watson getting married?!

***huge groan* My goddamned brother always sticking his oversized nose into matters that don’t concern him! *cough* But yes, Ms Whitmeyer, we are. Well, we will be, as soon as I ask him. *sidelong glance, mutters* left-hand-gold-band-loose-center-diamond-swollen-finger-around-the-ring... Ms Whitmeyer, you’ve been married for... Eight? Nine? Years? To your high school sweetheart?**

*gapes* Er... Yes? How did you kn-

**Don’t ask that. Tedious. But tell me, and quickly... How did he get you to say yes? Especially when you are so far from his league.**

Goodness, Mr Holmes, are you worried Dr Watson won’t accept?

***silence***

Oh, Mr Holmes!

~*~

_Hello again, Ms Whitmeyer._

Dr Watson! Mr Holmes! What a pleasant surprise.

_Er... Actually, it’s Dr and Mr Watson-Holmes now. Which is, incidentally, why we are here today._

Oh my! Congratulations to you both! I’m so happy for you.

**Sentiment. Dull.**

Oh, Mr Holmes, you know you’re secretly pleased. I told you he would say yes. Did you take him to that restaurant we discussed? 

_*laughter* Sherlock! Were you really so nervous that you asked our banker for advice?_

**Shut up, the pair of you.**

_You old softie._

He really was quite adorable about it, you know.

**Shut. Up. **

~*~

Fifties

**Ms Whitmeyer.**

Oh, hello, Mr Watson-Holmes, how can I hel- Mr Watson-Holmes? Oh my, Mr Watson-Holmes, what happened? Oh goodness. Take a Kleenex. Hello again Dr Watson-Holmes. What... What’s going on?

_We... We need to open an estate account, Ms Whitmeyer. There’s been a death in the family, and she... She named us as the executors._

Oh my goodness, I’m so very sorry for your loss. Of course we can take care of opening an estate account for you. Mr Watson-Holmes, would you like me to get you a glass of water? Here, you can just have the Kleenex box. 

**Sherlock.**

I’m sorry?

**Ms Whitmeyer, we’ve known each other nearly fifteen years now. Please. Call me Sherlock.**

Of course. I’m so sorry, Sherlock.

***sniff* Thank you.**

_Okay, Ms Whitmeyer, we have some cash, account numbers, bonds, and... And the deed to the building we live in. She left us everything._

That’s incredibly generous... She must have loved you both very much. She was lucky to have you. 

_*shuddery inhale* We were the lucky ones. _

***sobs***

~*~

_Good afternoon, Ms Whitmeyer._

Oh, hello Dr W-, I mean, John. Goodness, it’s been a bit since your last visit, hasn’t it? You’ve been well, I hope? And Sherlock?

_*sigh* Well, yes, and no. Things were great for awhile, but unfortunately I’m here for a rather sizeable withdrawal. Sherlock’s not doing great at the moment; he was on a case recently, and the suspect was armed. GSW to the leg, and a few broken ribs, but at least he got his in the end. Sherlock’s brother stepped in._

Oh my, I’m so sorry to hear that! Is Sherlock recovering well?

_He’ll be all right once he gets to the physical therapy clinic, which incidentally is why I’m here. It’ll be a six week program, provided he doesn’t get kicked out in the first 24 hours. Unfortunately, it’s also quite pricey, but there’s no way he can manage the stairs to our flat every day._

Aw, poor Sherlock! Well, I’ll keep you both in my thoughts. The physical therapists too.

_*laughs* They’ll probably need it more than we will. Anyway, would you mind telling me our account balance so I can see if I can write this massive cheque for his room and board?_

*prints bank total*

_*gapes* That can’t be right! There’s an extra zero on that figure._

Let me see here, John, just a moment... *typing* Ah. Well, it seems that there was an incoming wire from this morning from ‘M Holmes’ with a memo that says — and this is a direct quote, mind, so please don’t take offence — ‘Don’t be an idiot, John, take the damn money’.

_*groans* Bloody Mycroft._

~*~

Sixties

**Ms Whitmeyer.**

Sherlock! What a pleasure to see you. How are you?

**Old and slow, Ms Whitmeyer, it’s hateful.**

Oh, stop. You’re more spry than any of those OAPs that natter around here on a daily basis. You certainly always brighten my day.

**That’s kind of you to say, Ms Whitmeyer, but I fear I have now joined their ranks. I officially retired last week.**

Congratulations, Sherlock! Don’t look so glum. Retirement is a wonderful accomplishment. Do you and John have any big plans on the horizon?

**Well, that’s another reason I’m here. This blasted leg of mine makes it too hard to climb the stairs every day, so it looks as though we will be selling our flat, as soon as possible. We’re hoping to move to the country, like the old codgers we are, and maybe take up golf, or gardening, or some other inane activity that you do when you are waiting for death.**

For heaven’s sake, Sherlock, you make retirement sound like a death sentence. Just think of all the time you’ll have for experiments and travelling with John. You two can find a new hobby — not golf — but something special and new for the two of you.

***pouts* Such as?**

Hmm... Fishing?

***unimpressed look***

Okay... How about woodworking?

**Would you really trust me with a power saw?**

*shudders* No, no, no, not a great idea. Bird watching?

***glares***

Model building?

**Dull.**

Hiking?

**LEG!**

Oh, right. Well, what about bee keeping?

***silence***

Sherlock?

**That might actually... Well, I don’t hate it. Bees are quite useful creatures, you know.**

I know, Sherlock.

~*~

**Well, it’s done.**

Hello again, Sherlock. What’s done?

**I am officially no longer a Londoner. We close on a house in Sussex next week.**

That’s wonderful, Sherlock! Is John pleased?

**He better be; he’s the one that found the listing.**

Well, it sounds lovely. What does it look like?

**It’s a little cottage, but comes with quite a bit of land. Plenty of space for beehives.**

~*~

Seventies

***silence***

*exits building, passes bench just outside, starts* Oh my heavens! Sherlock! What on Earth are you doing here at this hour? We’ve closed for the day, I’m afraid.

**Ms Whitmeyer. I’ve been here all day... I just... I couldn’t bring myself to come inside. I- I needed to sit for a moment, this damned leg and I... Entering the building would make it official, and I... I just couldn’t... I needed a moment longer.**

Made what official, Sherlock?

**I need another estate account.**

I’m sorry to hear that. Who...?

***silence***

Sherlock?

***silence***

Sher...? Oh god. Oh no. Sherlock, who-

**He’s gone, Amelia.**

Sherlock. I’m so sorry. *tears up* Oh, Sherlock. What happened?

**Heart attack. It was quick. He died before the paramedics even arrived. I... He died in my arms. He’s dead. John is... John is dead. *sobs* What am I going to do without him? I’ve loved him more than half my life, and now I’m alone again.**

*hugs, cries* I don’t know what to say. I was very fond of him as well — he was a great man. You were lucky to have each other. 

***hugs a moment longer, stands* I’ll be back tomorrow for the estate account.**

I’ll be here, Sherlock.

~*~

Eighties

_ Amelia, can I please see you in my office for a moment? _

Of course, David, what’s going on?

_Well, we seem to have a bit of an unusual situation. It appears that a customer of yours passed away last week. According to the certified letter we received, he had been ill for some time, and just updated his will. He’s named you as the beneficiary._

*gasp* What? Who?

_A Mr Watson-Holmes, according to the correspondence we received. Of course, it goes against our policy that a bank employee receive gifts from customers, but given the circumstances... Well... I suppose I should just let you read the letter._

Oh, my. Oh, Sherlock. Yes, David, may I read the letter? 

_Of course. I’ll give you your privacy._

*opens letter*

**Dear Amelia,**

**I write this from a startlingly uncomfortable hospital bed that I have a sinking suspicion I shall not rise from again. I am an old man now, Amelia — much older than I was all those years ago when you assisted me in settling on a hobby to occupy my time post-retirement. Do you remember suggesting I keep bees? I did, in fact, follow your suggestion, and am the proud owner of several dozen beehives at the Sussex home I purchased with John. They are truly a sight to behold — they have given me comfort these last few years, as I learned to settle into my solitary life. **

**When I was a younger, more arrogant, (but obviously no less brilliant) man, I used to view loneliness as a badge of honour. I believed that being alone offered me protection, but over the course of my many years, I realised that it is connections, not solitude that gives life meaning.**

**I know I am near the end of my life, despite what my idiotic doctors may think. They claim it may be this or that malady, but I can tell it is something more. I am slowing down. The world around me darkens; I am finally beginning to feel at peace.**

**It is because of this that I write you this letter. As you know, John has been gone for years now, and we never had children. My brother is gone, as are my parents, my former landlady, and most of my friends. I am — by all means — alone again.**

**I have no one in my personal life — aside from perhaps the bees — that I would care to leave my worldly possessions to. Though I understand that it is unorthodox, I have updated my will, and would like for you to receive the bulk of my estate when I am gone. Whatever is left in my account, the house in Sussex, all of it goes to you. I know you are approaching retirement yourself in a few short weeks; I hope this gift eases the transition for you. Now you can be an old codger in the country raising bees as well.**  
  
**I truly hope you enjoy the cottage; it has served John and I very well. We both wanted to live out our days there, and now we have.**

**I sincerely thank you for all your hard work and service for John and I over the years. Our working relationship has been both a pleasure and a privilege; not a waste of time and eyeballs after all.**

**William Sherlock Scott Watson-Holmes**  
  
_fin_


End file.
